


Bastard

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Jonsa Drabble Fest 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 12:16:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16743835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: Yet some dark part of him knew he had never had such intentions, that he wanted Sansa round with his child over and over again. In some ways, he knew that he was a bastard after all.





	Bastard

**Author's Note:**

> for the bastard prompt.  
> late again lol

When he had found Sansa,  _Alayne_ , in the vale, he had been so overwhelmed with joy, they had hugged for what felt like an eternity, uncaring of all the curious eyes upon them.

 

He hadn't thought his showing up could have made things  _worse_  but now that she had been forced to reveal her true identity, Harrold Hardying and all the other pompous Lords of the Vale were vying for her attention as though she was nothing but a prize.

"Petyr told me to charm him and entrance him," she whispered to him one night, when she had snuck into his chambers under the cover of darkness. "But I don't want to marry him."

"I won't let it happen," Jon promised.

"If..." She bit her lip, her eyes lowering shyly. "We're cousins, aren't we? The rumours say you are Rhaegar and Lyanna's son."

"Aye," he responded slowly.

"If I'm not a maid..."

"No," he stated firmly. 

"Jon, I'll be wed to a man who will dishonour me. I'll never go back to Winterfell if I'm Harry's wife, he'll stay here. And I want to go home. Please. You're the only one I trust to ask but I'll ask Mya about stable boys if I must!"

He had kept his resolve that night but having spent so long apart, he had forgotten just how stubborn Sansa could be.

She started showing off more flesh as the snows began to melt. And Jon had used every ounce of self-control to not punch Harry as he practically salivated at the sight of Sansa's cleavage straining against her dress. 

When they were seated together, she would brush her leg against his, sometimes kick her slipper off and run her foot over the length of his shin. Jon had had to resort to remembering some of the horrible war scenes he had witnessed to stop himself getting hard beneath the table.

It was pathetic, how short a time it took to chip away his resistance he thought as their mouths devoured each other atop his bed two weeks after she had first come to him.

He told himself that it was for her own happiness. She wanted to be ruined, it would bring her home where she could be happy and safe forever. And, Jon would make it as good as possible for her, which he was sure was something no other potential suitor of hers would give her.

He had intended to pull out, moon tea wasn't a reliable option and he had heard stories about how even one use of it could complicate a woman's chances of conceiving a healthy babe later. He wouldn't take that opportunity from Sansa.

But the tight warmth of her had sent his mind spinning, over-whelmed at the feeling and by the time he realised how he had started losing his rhythm with desperate, fast thrusts, it was too late and he had helplessly spilled inside of her with a pitiful groan.

Yet some dark part of him knew he had never intended to pull away, that he wanted Sansa round with his child over and over again. In some ways, he knew that he was a bastard after all.

He wasn't sure if divine intervention had prevented her getting with child that night. Though it was just as well, for they would never have been able to escape so swiftly if she had suffered from the sickness that often accompanied pregnancy. Still, Jon had insisted that they would not lie together again until they were wed in Winterfell.

Sansa agreed, curling into his side in the small bed they were sharing in an inn in Moat Cailin. "Our children should be conceived in the North."


End file.
